


The Word

by thekingslover



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Jealous!Oliver, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is at the bar for less than five minutes before someone starts hitting on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Word

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr Coliver sideblog, 'monicashipscoliver'. Enjoy!

They sat down, had a talk. They’re going to try again, but for real this time.

"I won’t be just a notch on anyone’s bedpost," Oliver told him. "Not even yours."

"It’s not like that with you," Connor said. It sounded like a line, but coupled with Connor’s fidgeting, the way he pulled at his hair and bit at his lip, Oliver believed him. "I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t want to."

"I want to be exclusive," Oliver said.

Connor reached out, loosened Oliver’s hand from his knee and held it. “I kind of want that, too.”

"Kind of?"

Connor blushed and glanced down. “It’s scary, alright? I’ve never done this before.”

"Connor…"

"I want to try."

Now they sit together at the bar where they first met.

"Coming full circle?" Oliver asks.

Connor shakes his head. “Starting again.” He pushes off his stool. “Maker’s Manhattan?”

Oliver smiles and nods. “You remember.”

"Like I’d forget." Connor winks and heads for the bar.

Oliver hates watching him walk away, but when Connor gets to the bar, he turns and waves. Oliver’s discomfort vanishes, though his heart stays guarded. He isn’t quite as happy as he could be - as he _wants_ to be.

Connor was right. This is scary.

Connor is at the bar for less than five minutes before someone starts hitting on him. He’s a tall guy with wide shoulders. His face is hidden, facing away from Oliver, but his dark hair is well-styled, slicked back. He’s leaning into Connor.

Connor stays close to the bar, glancing over his shoulder at the guy only briefly. He seems more annoyed than interested.

Pride swirls bright in OIiver’s chest. It instantly darkens when the guy places his hand on Connor’s shoulder.

Shaking his head, Connor flashes the guy one of his fake smiles - nothing like the early morning sleepy smiles Oliver is used to.

The bartender brings Connor their drinks, but the guy puts his arm around Connor’s waist, boxing him in. Connor glares at the guy before glancing back to Oliver.

Oliver isn’t sure what Connor’s trying to convey, but he’s already off his stool and striding toward them. He’s tapping the guy on the shoulder, straightening up his shoulders, and saying, “You’re blocking my boyfriend.”

Connor’s mouth drops. His eyes widen and flash with something dark - something Oliver usually only sees when Connor shows up at his door demanding, _Take off your clothes_.

"Your boyfriend?" the guy says. In the corner of his eye, Oliver can see the guy sizing him up, and instinctively he thinks to crumple. Confrontation isn’t his thing. He usually backs down, backs off. But he can’t with Connor looking at him like that. He can’t when Connor _needs him_.

"Yeah," Connor says. "Boyfriend."

With effort, Oliver pries his gaze from Connor to the guy, and then pointedly at the guy’s arm still sitting, unwelcome, at Connor’s waist.

"Sorry, man," the guy says and retreats.

Oliver moves in. Connor grabs him by the belt and yanks him closer. He nips at Oliver’s lips.

Oliver smiles and says, “Say the word and we can start making out.”

Connor laughs, and Oliver’s guard comes down, just a little. _That_ smile is genuine - even as it sharpens, dangerous.

"The word."


End file.
